Glimpse in Time
by Calathiel of Mirkwood
Summary: Tonight, he shuffled towards the couch, plopped down and began to open up the boxes containing their supper. She didn’t join him immediately, moving instead to collect a stack of napkins. Will always forgot the napkins. Modern. Based on 25 word challenge.
1. The List

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. Walt Disney does.

**Glimpse in Time**

This story will be a different format then most as it's based off the 25 word prompt on Hide the Rum. I'll merely put the word at the top of the page and then you'll get another peek into what might have been their life, essentially making it a series of interconnected one-shots. I didn't modify the list at all by changing the order, words, etc.

Here's the complete list:

1. Patience  
2. Picture  
3. Sneak attack  
4. Puppets  
5. Ferris wheel  
6. Sand  
7. Mascara  
8. Shakespeare  
9. Bikini  
10. Health  
11. Moving-In-Day (college, new house, etc.)  
12. DVDs  
13. Chocolate covered strawberries  
14. Kissing booth  
15. iPod  
16. Helmet  
17. Lighter  
18. Inopportune moment  
19. Chick flick  
20. Physics  
21. Breathe  
22. Learner's permit  
23. White Light  
24. Trophy  
25. Anniversary

Enjoy!


	2. Patience

**1. Patience**

Elizabeth Swann drummed her fingers idly on the sill of the window. "Come on, Will…" she murmured softly.

They had agreed two weeks ago on seeing a movie tonight and the showing would start in less than ten minutes. They'd barely make it if they left immediately. Unfortunately, that was impossible as 'they' was just 'her'. 'him' was missing.

She fingered the call icon on her phone and thought of the hoard of messages and missed calls Will would have when he finally found it. Will's phone was in a perpetual state of missing.

She'd found it for him several times previously and it was always in the strangest of places. Some days she wondered what he did with it to get it trapped between the microwave and the refrigerator. Last time it was wedged in the backseat of his car. He'd only found it looking for loose change to pay for a DVD rental.

A soft sigh broke past her lips. She leaned forward, staring out at the dark street. Really, how complicated was it to find keys, phone, drivers license, and drive fifteen minutes to the girlfriend's house?

The girlfriend who had been waiting for twenty minutes.

Patience had worn thin and she was considering forgetting the entire thing, throwing on a comfy pair of pajamas, and spending the evening curled on her couch with an old movie.

The latest flick couldn't have been that interesting anyway, she decided as she turned away from the window, shedding her coat and preparing for a night of Cary Grant. Will must have been swamped with work last minute and had forgotten to call her.

She was mid-bowl of popcorn and completely immersed in her movie when a loud 'whack!' followed by a groaned curse sounded outside her apartment. Wondering if Will had finally arrived, she tramped to the door, popcorn in hand.

The door swung back to reveal Will, on his hands and knees retrieving boxes, stamped with the logo she was used to seeing glowing brightly in the restaurant window across the street.

Snow dusted his broad shoulders and his dark, curly hair, falling onto the apartment hallway and quickly forming a nice puddle around her boyfriend. He hadn't noticed or pretended not to as he collected the last box.

The soft aroma of garlic bread and fettuccine drifted towards her. It would be Will to bring her food when a promised movie fell through. He stood, smiling sheepishly, nose and cheeks rosy from the cold. "Sorry, Elizabeth. I tried to get here on time but there was an accident that plugged up traffic. I brought dinner to make up for it."

The bright glitter in his eyes, the enticing scent of Italian food, and perhaps the idea of curling up next to him on the couch made the decision and melted any disappointment she felt at missing the movie. "It's alright. Come on in."

He stepped in behind her and, after shedding his coat and boots, tramped after her towards the main room. The crackling voices sounding from the television caught his attention.

"Cary Grant, huh?"

"Mhmm. I thought maybe you'd like this one. I'm only ten minutes into it."

"Yeah, right." If Will's tone was her doormat, there wouldn't be puddle from his snow covered boots. As she was well aware, Will's movie taste lay more along the lines of war films, filled with guns, bullets, and explosions. The bigger the better.

Elizabeth didn't care for them much. Her favorite character was always killed at the crux of the film, leaving Will carrying on about the amazing visual effects and her, red-eyed and weepy. She didn't mind, however, the way he held her tight when the fateful cinema killing occurred.

Tonight, he shuffled towards the couch, plopped down and began to open up the boxes containing their supper. She didn't join him immediately, moving instead to collect a stack of napkins. Will always forgot the napkins.

Before she had gathered a substantial pile there was a low curse coming from the couch, causing her to straighten. Will was not known to curse and hearing him do so twice within five minutes was a rare occurrence. He must be particularly troubled or nervous about something. If it was about missing the movie, she wasn't that upset. There would be other showings.

His embarrassed, "Elizabeth?" reclaimed her attention.

"Here." The pile of napkins was passed his direction. Wiping the last of the popcorn butter from her fingertips, she settled down next to him while he mopped up a good sized lake of noodles and sauce.

A second later, a warm container of pasta drenched in creamy alfredo was in her hands, steam rising up to curl around her face. Her eyes returned to the screen and she began to lose herself in the plot.

She had only a moment though, until Will spoke again, hesitantly, "Elizabeth?"

"Mhmm?"

"Elizabeth…" His tone implored attention.

She tore her eyes from the screen and saw Will twitching in nervous anticipation, dark brown eyes glowing with a boyish eagerness. Initally she didn't understand. His gaze flicked down and she followed it. A velvet box was sitting next to her on the sofa cushion.

"Marry me?"

**TBC...**


	3. Pictures

Thanks very much to reviewers AKA Parfait, Arquenniel, javajunkiechick, and wolfbait!!

**2. Pictures**

Elizabeth ran her hands down the front of her bright coral gown, smoothing the last of the wrinkles from its soft fabric. A final glance in the mirror showed her that her work was finished here.

Now, to check on Will. He'd been shut away in his bedroom ever since she'd arrived. He'd never been much for dressing up. In fact, he'd met her father, Governor Weatherby Swann, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Holes in the knees of the pant legs and the faded pirate symbol on the shirt. Elizabeth would never forget the look on her father's face.

But that was her Will.

It wasn't that he couldn't clean up. He proved that when he was invited to attend a state dinner. He'd made quite the stunning picture in a dark suit. Even she had been impressed.

She had no worries over his appearance tonight. As the time ticked by, however, she began to wonder what on earth was taking him so long. They had scheduled a photo shoot for their engagement picture with a well known photographer.

Personally Elizabeth would have been fine with a non-professional photo but Weatherby wouldn't hear of it. So, to appease him they set a date, spoke with the polite man about what they wanted, and walked away with a two hour session to find the perfect engagement announcement photo.

Stepping to the door, she rapped lightly. "Will?"

The response was the door being violently yanked open. Will was back across the room in seconds. He was wearing a half-buttoned dress shirt, and dark pants. A tie was loose around his neck and his hair was still wet from a shower. His room wasn't in any better shape. Shirts, pants, socks, and ties were strewn across the floor.

"Will?"

He didn't answer, too busy shuffling through a drawer opposite his bed.

"Will, its half past four. The photographer doesn't expect us until six." Elizabeth had hoped that would calm his frenzied search.

He didn't slow for an instant.

"Will…what's the matter?"

He mumbled the reply. "Can't find my shoes…"


	4. Sneak Attack

Apologies for the long wait on this one. I tried to get it up yesterday but an English paper proved a bit more difficult than I'd expected. Anyway, enjoy!

**3. Sneak Attack**

Her prey awaited her attack unknowingly. He stood defenselessly with his hands shoved deep in his woolen pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, feet shuffling in three inches of thick, wet snow. The normally alert dark eyes squinted as they roved the cloudy skies above.

The time was ripe for her strike. She readied her ammunition and began to move forward stealthily. He would never suspect a thing. If he could turn two inches to the right her strike would be perfect.

He shifted slightly and she grinned. Excellent.

Quick as a wink, Elizabeth slid her hard packed handful of snow down the lip of Will's collar, packing it securely into the back of his shirt.

At first, he didn't react. Instead, he faced her fully, confused. It was then that he slowly began to feel the ice. A humorous mixture of shock, discomfort and a distinct dash of something that promised revenge sparked in his eyes.

His back twisted violently in response to the ice and a sing-song "Elizabeth!" elicited a peal of laughter from her.

"Merry Christmas, Will!" She managed amid giggles.

"Merry Christmas?" He stopped grasping for the snow and instead stepped towards her, an ominous glow to his wind chilled face.

"Will," She backed away, her hands already out to placate him. "Now, it was just a joke."

"A joke, eh?" He fingered the sodden collar nipping the nape of his neck and began to move in on her. One eyebrow arched.

"Yes…" She lost her nerve and ran. That questioning peak was something she had only seen a few times. And each time it boded doom.

His measured footsteps echoed behind her. "Oh, I don't think so." Abruptly, an arm curled around her waist and her feet lifted off the ground. Will's voice purred in her ear. "I don't think so."

"Will! I didn't mean it!" She wriggled, trying to free himself from his firm grasp. "It was just a joke, honest!"

The rumble of his laughter sent a sliver of foreboding down her spine. With her back against his chest, she couldn't see what he had planned. Instead she had to wait. And waiting had never been her strong point.

Something wet and cold suddenly slid down her own collar, whisking away her breath at the frigid touch stealing down her warm skin. "Will!"

He loosed his arms enough to let her whirl on him. "Revenge is mine."

"William Jonathon Turner! How could you?" she pouted, toying with his lapel.

"The same way you did to me."

She looked up and felt her breath whisk away. His eyes met hers squarely, snowflakes balancing on his lashes, lips curled into an impish smile. "Well, then, I suppose we'll have to call a truce?"

"Indeed."

"Mister Turner," she thrust her hand out. "I hereby declare an armistice."

"Certainly." But instead of taking the outstretched palm he reclaimed her waist and tipped her back.

It was an unexpected move to say the least. Elizabeth's hands caught his shoulders and when she recovered a moment later from the shock she realized that Will was only centimeters away, the warm of his exhale washing over her cheek.

"Will! What are you-"

Her lips met his and the world melted away.

**Next Thursday: Puppets!**


	5. Puppets

Many thanks to wolfbait and Arquenniel for the lovely reviews!

I'll try to get a second one up before Sunday.

**4. Puppets**

Boredom.

It's terrible vice had Will in a strangle hold. If it was possible to die from lack of something to do, his vision would be fading, the world's bright colors being siphoned away with murky darkness.

Glancing up at the only other being in the room, he sighed loudly, hoping for the slightest iota of commiseration. She was his fiancé after all. If he couldn't get her to feel for him then he might as well have RMS Titanic stamped across his shirt.

A rushed smile was the meager lifeboat offered him before her amber eyes flicked back to the computer screen. He'd lost to daffodils, roses, ribbons, and heaven knows what else.

Elizabeth had tried to explain the importance to him, the differences between some twisted red flower and a pale yellow flower with wide smooth petals. All it had accomplished was to waste ten minutes. Will was left to wonder at the quirks of the females that some plant might send them into a tizzy.

He slumped back against the couch. Work was slow right now, leaving him no blueprints to pour over. The ceiling had lost it's interest long ago. He turned to plucking idly at the fringe on the pillow at his side.

"Elizabeth?"

"Hmm."

"Have you found what you wanted yet?" He hoped against hope itself that she might say yes.

"Not yet."

And so it was that Will's eyes returned to roving the little room for something to do. A brightly colored sock lay near a basket of clean laundry. A moment later it was in his hand.

The soft cotton slid through his fingers easily. The little smiling faces staring back up at him, mocking his misery. He'd been with Elizabeth when she'd purchased the pair of socks. She thought they were adorable. He wasn't so easily swayed.

But as his hand slid up the center of the sock he couldn't help admitting that they were soft...the tip brushed his fingers and he made a fist, the fabric bending around his palm.

Oddly enough, it looked vaguely like a puppet. The kind he used to see in thrift store's streaked windows with buttons for eyes, yarn for hair, and a red felt tongue sewn into the heel of the stocking for effect.

In fact, if he twisted his hand just so, the smiling faces morphed into a pair of curious yellow-black eyes, a snout nose, and a twisted little tongue.

"Will, do you think this goes with the…" Elizabeth's distracted voice trailed off into nothing.

He looked up curiously to see that her eyes were focused on his hand, the makeshift puppet's head cocked to the side. Suddenly, he felt an unexplainable urge to justify his newfound friend. "I, uh…it's not what…it's a puppet, see?" The sound of throat clearing echoed oddly in the now silent room.

The slightest hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth.

He tore the sock off as if it burned him and walked to her side. "What did you need, babe?"

Amusement and a touch of understanding flickered in the depths of her eyes and she turned back to the computer screen. "I like these two. But I can't decide which…"

And for the rest of the night, Will was her attentive helper, the infamous pink sock crumpled firmly in the center of his palm.


	6. Ferris Wheel

I realize that Tuesday isn't Saturday. That makes this drabble several days late. I apologize! But I had several curveballs thrown my way this weekend and I just couldn't get to this.

Thanks so, so much to reviewers AKA Parfait and williz!

**5. Ferris Wheel**

The tinkle of wine glasses and the low strains of the orchestra filled Elizabeth's ears and echoed through the expansive room. Soft lighting filled the room with a glow, gleaming off the dark wood floors and polished glass showcases.

Various art pieces dotted the room, all displayed with a broad bronze plaque stating the piece's name, the thought behind it, and the creator's name. Men in tuxedos and women in elegant black gowns threaded through the creations, conversing in hushed tones.

Elizabeth had mingled politely for the first twenty minutes with every ounce of valiance in her. After a particularly droll conversation, she swiped a tall glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, looking nearly as bored as she, and began to stroll through the room at a clip that discouraged anyone from joining her.

Rounding a slender, spiraling glass piece, she took another sip of the bubbly beverage, eyes admiring the clever design. The brilliant crimson glass became flooded with light as she turned, morphing the deep color until glowed like fire.

And it was that captivating color that reunited her with her fiancé.

Will stood across the room holding a large but untouched glass of wine that some dignitary had insisted he try. His eyes held the glaze that he normally acquired when mulling over a complicated blueprint.

Knowing what he must be feeling from hours of being in the same spot but unable to leave her haven just yet, she watched, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

The older man said something that he obviously thought greatly amusing. Will wasn't so impressed. However, he mustered a weak, polite laugh.

Elizabeth watched for a while longer, giggling quietly when a sweet older woman tried to weasel him into sampling a queer looking cheese. Her gentle laughter caught his attention and his dark gaze flicked up to scan the room.

The radiant smile that never failed to send a thrill through her washed over his face and suddenly she felt a touch of guilt for deserting him for so long. Gathering what was left of her fortitude, she slipped over to his side.

"Elizabeth." Her name had never sounded so much like a sigh of utter relief.

"Oh, Will, I've been looking for you everywhere." She took his hand in hers before turning to the woman. "Mrs. Joucard, how pleasant to see you!"

The petite woman smiled, nodding, and held out the cheese, kidnapped from some poor waiter. "Care for some cheese? It's positively the most wonderful thing I've tasted in years."

"No, thank you. Perhaps a bit later. I'd like to have the champagne settle first."

"Ah."

"Will, I wanted to show you this painting. It's positively charming." Elizabeth tightened her grasp on his arm, maneuvering him towards a quiet corner. "If you don't mind, Mrs. Joucard?"

Mrs. Joucard gave her consent and moved off to find another pitiable soul to try and barter her stomach churning cheese to. The waiter trailed behind her forlornly.

"That was not among the most pleasant experiences of my life." Will's voice was low in her ear but his amusement took no genius to detect. "Nor one of the most appetizing."

"And I suppose I'm to make it better?"

"Perhaps." He caught a waiter's eye and passed off the glass of wine.

A gentle correction from Elizabeth prevented Will from hiding near the orchestra pit. He looked to her for explanation. "We're still in her view."

And she was correct. Mrs. Joucard peered after them, the waiter at her elbow.

Elizabeth hesistated, unsure of where to proceed. Which painting might give them the most peace and quiet?

Will seemed to sense her indecision. "I take it you don't have a painting in mind, then?"

She fingered the stem of her glass. "Not exactly."

He chuckled. "Well, I like the look of that one there." He pointed to a large canvas on the wall ahead of them. The colors were muted but the concept intriguing.

"Of course. That was just it." Elizabeth knew exactly why he'd chosen that particular painting and it had nothing to do with art.

It was based solely on location. Tucked behind a massive statue, it provided a bit of solace from the buzz of voices. Will had never cared much for large crowds, nor grand parties.

"Excellent." He smiled broadly.

They arrived without consequence and, feigning the interest of two passionate art lovers, they stared up at the oiled canvas.

After a long moment had passed Will spoke. "You know, those black lines there," he directed her attention to the high right side of the painting. "They almost look like a Ferris Wheel."


	7. Sand

Thanks to AKA Parfait and PirateRN for the reviews!!

**6. Sand**

It was a Friday. And by definition Fridays were supposed to be one of the nicest days of the week.

Yet, her day so far had not been pleasant.

She burned her hand making tea that morning, spilled on her skirt, her hair was a disaster, and her mascara had finally given up the ghost.

And here she stood in one of the finest showrooms in London with her father and fiancé looking at flower arrangements. After extensive research, she had selected a shop to complete the head table's centerpiece.

She wanted it long and flowing, curling along the table's length and brushing the floor along the front. Perhaps something with small white flowers, pale colors so as not to dilute the rich cream table cloth.

The concoction they stood before was most certainly not flowing.

Sticks, for that was all you could really call them, stuck straight up from a glass vase of course sand. Tall, twisting auburn feathers and some type of dried leaves completed the look.

Their guide, a short woman with pinched features, was rattling off a commentary on how the feathers were among the finest available, hand selected and placed.

Thankfully, Governor Swann was not impressed either. He leaned instead towards an off-center arrangement of vibrantly colored flowers nearly as large as his face. Elizabeth did not care for either.

When he strode towards it, the guide trotting after him, she fell behind and moved close to Will. "What do you think?"

He looked back at the stick arrangement. "I think it's fitting if we were pirates."

"Pirates?" Elizabeth's eyebrows lifted. "And why is that?"

"Sticks, for damage control. Just in case a wedding brawl broke out."

His face was perfectly serious, sending Elizabeth into soft laughter.

"Feathers for the ladies, leaves for putting out the fires, and the sand…well, it would serve as some type of tear gas."

Tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes and her sides ached from the effort of keeping her giggles quiet. "Tear gas?"

"Indeed. For there is always rum at a pirate wedding. Alcohol can make people do the strangest things and we don't want the refreshments going up in flames." Will directed her towards the next floral exhibit as the Governor and their guide had moved far beyond them.

"You sound like Jack."

Will smiled at the mention of his good friend, the eclectic and ever quirky Jack Sparrow. "Well, it would be Jack to mourn the loss of liquor."

They passed a round bowl of roses. "I don't think I could imagine us as pirates."

"I can." Will eyed a prickly jar of tropical flora. "We'd get into all sorts of trouble, nearly die multiple times, perhaps get arrested, escape, travel to the edge of the earth, and possibly fight a sea monster."

"Sounds like quite the adventure. And would we marry?"

"In one of the world's greatest and most infamous sea battles." He winked.

"Elizabeth?" The Governor's voice now sounded very far away.

Still laughing, they increased their pace and Elizabeth called, "We'll be right along, Father."


	8. Mascara

**7. Mascara**

Swipe to the left. Swipe to the right.

Elizabeth Swann's attention was solely focused on the mirror and mascara tube in front of her, something that amused Will Turner greatly.

She could never keep her mouth closed and her lovely amber eyes widened to the size of saucers when applying the stuff. He glanced back to road they were traveling down and tried to keep the grin off his face.

He and Elizabeth were on their way to the engagement party Elizabeth's father was throwing for them. It was a very important event for Weatherby Swann and he wanted it to be perfect. They had agreed on the date months ago but when the actual day rolled around Will arrived at Elizabeth's apartment to find her in her pajamas with her nose buried in a novel.

After the initial panic wore off Elizabeth was showered, in a light sundress, and running to the car, shoes and mascara in hand. All in all, Will thought they could make it in fairly good time considering the circumstances, arriving only fifteen minutes late.

Will stole another glance at his new fiancé. She'd finished with the right eye and had moved to the left, her face squinted in concentration.

When he looked back to the road the light they were approaching changed and suddenly Will was stomping on the brakes to avoid driving into oncoming traffic. There was a loud squawk and a loud thump from the seat beside him.

The car jerked to a rough stop and he looked to over to see what had happened to Elizabeth. Black grooves had been smeared over her left cheek and her shoes had gone flying onto the dashboard. Her eyes showed a mixture of shock and irritation.

"Will?"

"Sorry, baby, the light changed."

But she was already trying to wipe the goop from her face. "Oh, this is just perfect. Just what I needed today. First my razor breaks and now this."

Concerned at the vigor with which she was scrubbing, Will attempted to set her at ease. "It's alright. It'll come off, won't it? I mean, it comes off your eyes, doesn't it?"

"Well, yes, if I had some water." For all her scrubbing it was smeared over her hands and was now in danger of getting it on her white sundress.

The light turned green and Will eased the car over to an empty parking lot. "Come on, babe."

"Come where?"

"Just come on." He turned off the engine, exited the car, and unlocked the trunk. Rummaging around for a while he emerged with something in his hands. Elizabeth had gotten from the car and was watching him with a strange expression on her face.

"Will, what are you doing?"

In response, Will held up a bottle of soda water.

"But, Will…"

"Does this work?"

"I suppose, I've never tried." Elizabeth fidgeted. "What are we going to use for cloth?"

"Oh…" Will's brow scrunched in thought. "Got it." He held up a finger then proceeded to take off his shirt.

"Will! What in heavens name are you doing?" Elizabeth exclaimed, feeling her cheeks heat at the stares they were receiving from the cars passing by. That was her fiancé they were whistling at.

"Here," he handed her the soft grey shirt. "For your face."

Elizabeth's mouth seemed to have forgotten how to work properly. She tried, unsuccessfully, to formulate some kind of response.

"Elizabeth, we're already late as it is. Can you…" he gestured to her face.

She jumped into action. A minute later the mascara was gone, with only a black smudge on corner of Will's shirt to testify that it had ever existed.

And twenty minutes later when they arrived at the party Elizabeth was as beautiful as ever. Will received some odd looks but he shrugged it off with a light comment about how lovely Elizabeth's mascara looked.


	9. Shakespeare

Thanks so much to reviewers AKA Parfait, Falling Stardust, Dazed.in.life, and LadyPadfoot21!! You guys made my day!

Anonymous Review Responses:

AKA Parfait: Thanks so much! laughs and I hope you were not disappointed.

**8. Shakespeare**

The air smelled of spices.

It whirled about her ankles, warming the smooth silk gown she was clad in. A low chuckle in her ear and the feeling of Will's cheek against hers set a glow through her.

"Elizabeth…" his voice didn't sound quite right.

No matter. His arms fit about her just as they always had.

"Elizabeth!" the voice didn't sound at all like Will's. And it was annoyingly persistent.

"Hey Juliet! Your Romeo is calling!"

Elizabeth opened one bleary eye. "What?" Who was talking about Shakespeare this early in the morning? She had only gone to bed a few hours before due to some charity event with her father. Couldn't they wait a while?

The Swann Mansion's caretaker Nicolette waved the phone in her face. "Will's on the phone for you."

Suddenly, Elizabeth was awake. Her elbow propped her up as she instinctively raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it and blinked her eyes to clear the fog from her wits.

Smiling at the older woman, Elizabeth took the receiver, cleared her throat and said, "Will?"

"Elizabeth, good." Will sounded relieved. "I can't find that blueprint that I was working on the other day when you were here."

Thinking back, she tried to remember but, unable to successfully untangle herself from the coverlets, failed miserably. "Sorry, baby. I don't."

"Oh." There was shuffling as he undoubtedly searched for his missing blueprint.

It was strange for Will to misplace his work. When it came to his job he was meticulous. With other things it would be common. But not with his blueprints. They were kept safely tucked away in a separate room of his apartment.

"I thought I put it by the filing cabinet…" he trailed off.

"Did you check by the window?" Elizabeth's eyes drooped closed.

"Found it!"

"I'm sorry."

A long pause. "Are you awake, Elizabeth?"

"Good for you, baby."

There was slight chuckle. "Elizabeth?"

"Hmm?"

"Go back to sleep."

"Mmm, 'kay."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

The phone clicked to silence and she set it on the floor. Half asleep already, she rolled back over and disappeared in the coverlets.


	10. Bikini

**9. Bikini**

"Venice?"

"Maybe."

"Florence?"

"Maybe."

"Paris. It's Paris, isn't it?"

"Maybe."

Elizabeth pouted. "Will…why won't you tell me?"

A smirk spread over his face. "Not yet."

"But…" she paused, thinking of a valid reason for him to reveal the honeymoon location. "Ah! You should tell me so I know what clothes to pack!"

His infuriating grin grew wider.

"Will," she moved closer on their couch, sliding her head onto his shoulder. "You wouldn't want me to freeze while wearing my bikini in Finland. It is in Finland, correct?"

"Aww, baby, I'd never want you to freeze."

Triumphant success flooded her mind. He'd given in-

"It's a good thing that I will be there to take care of you."

Or not.

"Will!" she smacked his elbow. "Come on, tell me! I promise I'll keep it a secret!"

"What would be the point in that? I'm supposed to be keeping a secret from you. Not the bridal party." His dark eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Oh, fine. But if we get lost because you can't speak German, don't come looking for me." She settled back. One eye followed his movements closely, watching for any tell-tale sign.

No Fredericksburg then.

Moments ticked by as the two sat in serenity. Elizabeth finally looked up sleepily.

"Will? One last question. Is it New Zealand?"

His laughter filled the room.


	11. Health

Many thanks to AKA Parfait and Dazed.in.life for the reviews!! I can't tell you how much I love them!

My trusty computer is getting a few repairs so the next drabble, Moving-in-Day, might be a few days off. Sorry!

**10. Health**

Noses were extraordinary things. Elizabeth understood that. But when hers continued to run, growing considerably more red and puffy with each passing day, it became a problem.

It wasn't that she refused to get sick. It was merely that she refused to get sick three days before her wedding.

She'd tried every cold medicine in the drug store and all it had accomplished was to leave the taste of overly-sweetened grape in her mouth. Her nerves quickly frayed and, adding the stress of arranging the last details, she was an emotional mother lode.

Tissues surrounded her in a halo of self-pity and tall glass of orange juice was her only hope of recovery.

She was huddled in the center of her sofa with an Audrey Hepburn movie playing in the background. A fluffy blanket kept her toes warm as she hadn't the energy to turn off the air conditioning.

She heaved a soft sigh and sank farther into the cushions. Maybe she could postpone the wedding…make-up certainly wouldn't hide the fact that her nose had adopted the size and shape of a poodle. Feeling utterly miserable, she took a sip of her orange juice and reached for another tissue when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, go away." She mumbled.

The doorbell rang again and she moaned, refusing to budge.

It didn't ring a third time which made Elizabeth think that the caller had relented, something that she wasn't sorry at all to assume. She heard the quiet tread of shoes and turned to see who was entering her apartment uninvited. A bit unnerved, she snatched up her tissue box and prepared to bash it over the intruder's head.

"Hello beautiful." Will stepped into her living room, a full bouquet of flowers in hand.

Elizabeth dropped the tissue box and promptly covered her nose. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" he seemed amused.

"It isn't funny." She grumbled, fixing her eyes on the television.

"Ah, baby, you'll get better." He laid the flowers on the low table in front of the television and sank down next to her.

"No, I won't," she moaned. "The wedding's three days away and I'll be stuck with a nose as bright as a tomato. Tell me how that's okay."

"Well…" he trailed off, eyes settling on the film playing. "You know, Elizabeth? I've always liked tomatoes…"

She wasn't taken in. "But I don't! It's my wedding and I want it to be perfect!"

"Elizabeth, it will be perfect. Just relax. You have three whole days to recuperate. Besides," he stood and headed for the kitchen. "Nobody stays sick when Will Turner makes his famous chicken noodle soup."


	12. MovinginDay

I apologize! I know this isn't a few days later (it's more like a week) but I hope you are all still with me! :)

Massive thanks to lynxlan, AKA Parfait, and Dazed.in.Life for the awesome reviews!

**11. Moving-in-Day**

"Will! Look at this table! Will, its cherrywood!"

The new husband watched as Elizabeth ran from room to room, eyes bright with excitement as she discovered the additions to their brand new flat.

"And the cabinet!" her slender fingers danced along the wood's glossy surface.

Chuckling, he moved past her and deposited their suitcases in the master bedroom. She trotted after him, remarking enthusiastically about the fresh paint on the walls and the gleaming hardwood floors beneath their feet.

For Will's part, the flat's transformation was better than he had anticipated. When they had initially found the flat it was a sad looking thing. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the wood floor had deep grooves and scratches over the entire surface.

But Elizabeth had fallen in love with it.

So, Will mustered his funds and bought it. With a little of elbow grease and a few called in favors, he had managed to revive the tired space.

"Will? How..." she paused, nibbling at her bottom lip. "How did you find this furniture?"

"You didn't think I was staring at the ceiling the entire time you were looking at pictures of the furniture you wanted, did you?" Will remembered the hours she had spent pouring over photos, the days she had spent sifting through thrift markets in attempt to find those perfect pieces of furniture.

She smiled that brilliant smile of hers, the golden hue of her skin heightened by the honeymoon weeks spent in the Caribbean, but apparently was not satisfied with his answer as she prodded further. "Where did you…"

"Where did I get the money?" he finished the question for her.

She nodded.

"You know the job interview I had a few weeks back? With EITC Inc?"

"The architect company?

"Yes."

"But I thought you didn't get the job…they didn't like your resume."

"I didn't. But I met someone there, a woman named Tia Dalma. She's opening her own company that will work mainly with international buyers. There's traveling involved with the position she was searching to fill but the pay is good and the opportunities are incredible."

Elizabeth grin grew with each word. "And…"

"She offered. I accepted. I'll be doing the same thing I would have done with EITC but with much more freedom."

"Will!" She shrieked, flinging her arms around his neck. "Oh, I'm so proud of you!"

"Why thank you."

Ever keen, she heard the slight reluctance in his voice. "When do you start?"

"Orientation begins tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Already?"

"Yes."

Her eyes dropped to the collar of his shirt. "Oh."

"Come on," Will slipped his hands around her waist. "It won't be that bad."

"Yes, it will." Elizabeth pouted. "I'll have to unpack all the boxes by myself."

Knowing she was teasing him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back out to the main room where the piles of unloaded boxes awaited. "We can't have that, now can we?"


	13. DVDs

**12. DVDs**

Fingering the last bit of milk in the bottom of her cup, Elizabeth stared forlornly at the pile of boxes awaiting someone to unpack them.

She had spent the entire morning unloading their clothes from the honeymoon, ironing the miniscule wrinkles from Will's shirts, studying the view of the city from the kitchen window, and generally avoiding the massive task that loomed in her living room.

A glance at the clock informed her that she had spent twenty minutes drinking one glass of milk. Will's return home wasn't for another four hours. "Oh bugger."

She finished off her milk, rinsed the glass, and stalked to the pile of cardboard boxes. Staring them down with all the determination she possessed, the first box was opened.

Wedged in between rolled up newspapers were her books. "Here we go," she dusted off the first volume and set it on the empty shelf behind her.

Time was consumed as she would unload something, place it, move it, stare at it to decide if the placement received approval, perhaps move it a third time, and finally nod in acceptance before the next item was retrieved.

The flat began to take a whole new life as the shelves and closets were filled. The floor, however, began increasingly difficult to find underneath the discarded newspaper sheets.

Another box was popped open and DVDs shone up at her.

"Bugger." She hefted the box over to their television and began to stuff the DVDs in the cabinet. She was reaching for Singing in the Rain when something small and black skittered across the base of the box.

With an ear-splitting scream, she shoved the box away.

If there was one thing she absolutely detested it was spiders. And of course, they would show up when Will was away because anything else would be too fair.

She dove for the tissue box that had been placed, for some harebrained reason, all the way across the room. Swimming through the politics section of the newspaper, she scrambled across the wood floor. Business, sports, classified ads, and international news all went flying past before her hand closed on a white tissue.

That scrawny legged beast wouldn't take over her new flat.

She dove back into the fray of typed news. However, in her socking clad feet she lost her footing somewhere in tourism and went flying. There was a loud thump as she landed. With a now aching backside, Elizabeth crawled on her hands and knees towards the DVD box. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she drew closer.

What if it had escaped? What if it was crawling towards her now on its nasty, grimy, little legs?

She faltered, the tissue in her palm growing damp. But she was too far in now. Enemy territory surrounded her. So, with wary glances at anything remotely spider shaped, she moved in closer and closer.

The box loomed before her and still the spider had not revealed its location. She extended two fingers and gently pulled back the box flaps.

Out came the spider, flying across the cardboard surface towards her lovely wooden flooring. The battle cry that sounded as the tissue descended would have been worthy of the tales of old.

The arachnid was elusive and slipped away from her grasp.

She dove after it, crashing soundly on the floor as she pursued. Somewhere the tissue fell from her grasp and when she finally cornered the spider by the side table and the couch she had no weapon to dispose of it.

Gone With the Wind became a sledgehammer on her floor in a stamping pattern as the arachnid scurried off. Newspaper was torn out of her way in a rampage towards the kitchen.

"Elizabeth?"

Her gaze shot up, the newspaper floating around her head like snowflakes. "Will!"

He stood in the doorway, hair and jacket tousled by the summer breezes, staring at her with a bemused and utterly confused expression. "Redecorating? Repainting the walls?" He ducked a newspaper sheet falling from the ceiling fan.

"Will! There's a spider! Quick!" She darted across the room and shoved the DVD into his hand. By sheer adrenaline, she pushed him towards the center of the room where the spider had been last spotted.

Grinning, he snatched up the tissue (Elizabeth was sure it reappeared out of malice) and continued her search.

"Ah." He bent over and wiped up something off the floor. "All better now."

Elizabeth had never sighed so heavily. "Thank you."


	14. Chocolate Covered Strawberries

**13. Chocolate Covered Strawberries**

Elizabeth Turner was miserable.

And in her mind she had every reason to be. She had caught the stomach flu and had only recovered two days previously. It wouldn't have been so bad if Will had been there with her. But he hadn't. Her husband had been gone for two weeks and wasn't scheduled to return until that coming Saturday.

So, to console herself, she had pulled out a package of strawberries and a bag of chocolate chips. One minute of microwaving later, she stood before a bowl of melted chocolate and a colander of fresh strawberries with a knife in hand.

Music played in the background to distract her from the fact that Will wasn't present. He always played music at night when he was working at home. The sound was something that she had been accustomed to and the house seemed empty without it.

Jabbing her knife in the first strawberry to hull it, she fought back tears and focused on how wonderful the fruit was going to taste, not how much she wanted Will back home.

Eight songs and five tissues later she was ready for the warm chocolate. By now she'd stopped sniffling and could work without blowing her nose and then having to wash her hands every twelve seconds.

She lifted the first fat strawberry and smeared the rich chocolate over its bumpy surface. The motion was oddly relaxing and it wasn't long before she had a whole plate of chocolate-strawberry goodness.

Temptation struck and she popped one in her mouth, feeling the sweet juice rush over her tongue. She felt a bit better now and as the strains of music continued to flow she found herself humming along, dancing around the kitchen with her chocolate-covered spatula in hand.

She was finishing a complicated twirl when suddenly she was swept up by two strong arms and kissed soundly on the lips. Shocked beyond words, she pulled back to see a pair of twinkling brown eyes in a familiar handsome face.

"Will!"

"Hello." He kissed her again, lingering this time.

"But I thought you were booked all through Friday! I thought you couldn't come home!"

"Plans changed. I thought I'd surprise you." Will moved his thumb over a dark smudge on her chin. "Miss me?"

"Now, why would you think something like that?"

"Is it normal for you to dance around the kitchen with strawberry partner?"

Elizabeth's cheeks grew hot and she felt herself leaning in for another kiss.

Will grinned as they separated. "Mmm, chocolate."


	15. Kissing Booth

Thanks very much to reviewers AKA Parfait, PirateRN, and Dazed.in.life!!

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Life has been a bit insane, and a mixture of papers, work, and writer's block made this drabble difficult produce. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**14. Kissing Booth**

The hallway was empty, save for one long figure standing in front of the door marked with a gold number '7'.

There was a jingle of keys as Elizabeth tried to locate the doorknob. Tears blurred the colors. Her fingers fumbled with the brass key until she finally found the slim opening and was able to shove the key inside.

The sobs building in her throat surged forward and for a moment all she could do was cry. The key was so cold in her fingers…

A peal of girlish laughter and Elizabeth whirled to peer down the hallway.

Gissy, Gillis, Giselle whatever the tall blonde's name was had another one of her boyfriends over. The two were stumbling towards a flat at the end of the corridor. And all the while they acted as though they were in their own private kissing booth.

Elizabeth could have thrown something at them.

As they were firmly ensconced in her doorknob she settled for swiping at her nose that had taken on the workings of a leaky faucet. She jerked at the stupid key and the door went flying open.

Purse, keys, sweater, and those infernal heels she'd worn were dumped in a heap on the floor. She made it as far as the couch before her tears overwhelmed her again. Sinking down into the cushions, she wallowed in her misery.

Today had been one of her absolute worst.

It was her time of the month. Then she'd spilled coffee all over her blouse, broke her favorite mug, work had been a menace, and she'd received the bills. To make matters worse, she and Will had gotten into an argument.

It wasn't the worst they'd ever had but it was not, by any means, pleasant. They hadn't yelled. They hadn't screamed. She hadn't even cried until she'd caught her own cab and was in transit.

But the fact that Will had taken another cab…that he wasn't home already.

"Stupid, stupid." Elizabeth mopped at her face, trying to stem the flow of hot tears. "It's okay. I'm fine. We'll be fine."

Taking a deep breath, she stood and moved towards the bedroom. Maybe a few hours of sleep would help. Maybe this would all go away. Maybe it was just a bad dream.

She was still sniffling when she rifled through her closet for some pajamas. Selecting a pair of soft pants, she moved to grab a shirt but stopped. In a weak moment, she snatched a t-shirt from Will's side of the closet.

Not a minute later, she emerged from the bathroom, her fingers caught the warm cotton. It smelled just like him.

Burying her nose in the cloth, she couldn't see that a cold, empty bed awaited her, she couldn't see that Will's work light was off, she couldn't see that his shoes and socks weren't tossed across the carpet.

The fabric grew damp as she began to sob. How she rued her harsh words. If only she could take them back…

"Elizabeth?"

Her head bolted up.

Will stood in the doorway to their room. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. For an instant, all she saw was the little boy Will had once been, a boy asking for forgiveness.

And then she was flying across the room, launching herself into his arms. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, I'm sorry." His voice was a low rasp in her ear.

"I shouldn't have got so mad. I was just stressed…and things were all wrong…" Elizabeth's words weren't coming out properly. But she didn't care.

And apparently, if the warm kiss he gave her was any indication, neither did Will.


	16. Ipod

**15. iPod**

"Where did you put it last?" Elizabeth continued to tear apart the sofa, tossing the wide cushions behind her in an effort to find Will's wedding ring.

"I just had it." Will was pacing from the kitchen to the dining room to the study. One hand was tangled in his brown hair and the other pointing at various objects as if they were the culprit in the case of the missing wedding band.

"Well, baby, when did you take it off?"

"It was…" Will stopped abruptly, his eyes roving the room. "Maybe it's in the bathroom."

Elizabeth continued turning the living room upside down, attacking the armchair to the sounds of Will raiding the bathroom cabinet. She could hear him muttering in irritation until there was a deafening crash. There was dead silence for a full minute.

"Baby?" Elizabeth straightened.

"Everything's fine." He appeared a moment later, stomping over to closet, yanking out a broom and dustpan, and vanishing back into the bathroom.

Elizabeth sank down amongst the cushions, knowing that Will would tell her what was broken soon and trying to force her brain to think of places his ring could be.

There was a soft sigh as Will reentered the room, the remains of their toothbrush holder in the dustpan. He dumped the shards of glass in the trashcan before slumping down next to his wife.

"I just don't know where I put it, Elizabeth."

"Did you check the bedstand?"

"Uhuh."

"The kitchen counter?"

"Uhuh."

They sat together in dismal silence, each racking their brains for possibilities. Suddenly, Will bolted up, darting for the bookshelf.

He shuffled through some things lying in a basket on the shelf and turned back to Elizabeth with a triumphant look on his face. "Look!" he pulled out something that was much too large to be his wedding ring. "My ipod!"


	17. Helmet

**16. Helmet**

"Are you positive?"

"Do you trust me?" Will's eyes met hers and she wriggled, desperately wishing he hadn't picked that question. Of all the questions, he knew the one that would pull her heartstrings. Of course, she trusted him. This wasn't about trusting him. This was about trusting…that.

"Elizabeth, I wouldn't ask you to do anything that wasn't safe."

"But…"

"Elizabeth." Will raised an eyebrow.

"Will," she half-wined, hating that she sounded like a five year old but unable to give a more logical answer.

"Come on."

Elizabeth fought the sinking realization that she would agree with him and stubbornly held off for another long, drawn-out moment.

"Come on, Elizabeth." Will leaned back on the motorcycle and patted the seat behind him. The helmet in his other hand was held out and she felt another nagging tug to agree, courtesy of her adventurous side.

"Ten minutes. That's all." She took the proffered helmet and jammed it onto her head. "Next time I want to see Phantom of the Opera at the Theatre there will be no complaints."

"Not a word."

"Really?"

"Not even about the warble in their voices."

"Oh, bother." Elizabeth huffed. If he would give up his teasing for a whole night, she could stand a few minutes on a motorcycle.

His eyes gleamed as she stepped up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. "Ready?"

Elizabeth set her chin on his broad shoulder. "Do I have to answer?"

"Generally an answer is required for a question." He winked and revved the engine. "I'll make an exception this time."


	18. Lighter

**17. Lighter**

The world was suddenly a new and exciting place. Possibilities were endless. Brilliant, bold creations were within reach.

At least, that was the mindset of Will and Elizabeth as they stared, glowing with pride, at their new grill. The chrome shone softly in the fading daylight, glimmering along the perfect contours.

Will had nearly gone ballistic learning of the grill's capabilities, rattling on about its 50,000 BTU main burner output, the total cooking area of 700 square inches, and the rotisserie burner. Elizabeth merely liked the sleek design and the fact that it was on sale for half the regular price.

All the same, it was carted onto their small patio, wrapping torn away and fresh coals laid in preparation. Will brandished a plate of steak, a wide metal spatula, and a shiny new lighter. His grin couldn't have been wider.

Elizabeth placed herself a few yards away on the patio furniture with a pile of bills that needed to be looked over. They each settled into their own activity fairly rapidly and the air grew quiet.

Humming softly in attempt to retain at least a portion of her brain, she ran through the numbers printed on various receipts and invoices. The electric bill had gone up, she reflected pensively. No matter as long as they cut back in a few areas.

It was then that she noticed a queer scraping sound. It sounded over, and over, and over. It was tinny but grated…almost like a lighter. She glanced towards the other side of the patio. "Will?"

He was bent over the grill, his head just out of sight. The plate of steak sat forlornly to the side. The top of the grill was propped open, revealing the cold, black coals that were sadly lacking in heat.

"Babe?"

He grunted and muttered several unsavory words.

Tapping her pen against a notebook, she waited rather apprehensively. Surely they hadn't purchased a defective grill. She didn't want to even think about dragging that infernal contraption back through her recently cleaned carpets. One set of wheel tracks was plenty.

"Elizabeth? Do we have any matches?"

Her nose wrinkled in thought. "I think so. Check the living room bureau." Her attention was returned to the stack of receipts. The sound of the patio door opening and Will's even footfalls filled her mind as the numbers on the receipt continued to foil her plan to complete the month's budgeting. In the quiet of the afternoon, she had completed the calculation before Will returned.

Dark, stubbornly curly hair stuck out in all directions when he reappeared. Triumphant, he held up a slender packet of matches.

"Is there something wrong with the grill?"

"Despite the fact that it is entirely lacking in flame? I don't think so." He bent back over their new technological contraption.

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope…ah!" He jerked as if in pain.

"Will?"

"Nothing."

Unsure of whether to be concerned or to be amused, Elizabeth was audience to a cacophony of various exclamations of discomfort. He emerged with two badly burned fingers and a singed sleeve.

It was then that Elizabeth decided that intervention was necessary. Moving swift and sure, she took his arm, collected the plate of steaks, ensured that the grill was indeed turned off and went inside.

Twenty minutes later with Will's fingers neatly bandaged, they ate oven broiled steaks.


	19. Inopportune Moment

Many thanks to reviewers AKA Parfait, lynxlan, .life, and Sonjadore!! Your reviews were so encouraging to read!

I'm hoping to have the next drabble up very soon. The concept is complete, it's actually getting it down on paper (rather a computer document) that has yet to be achieved. But I hope you enjoy this one!

**18. Inopportune Moment**

Will brushed the last specks of dust off his shoes and straightened. His wallet and cell phone awaited him on the kitchen table. In a quick move, they were scooped up and tucked in his pocket. A smooth suit-coat hung off the back of the head chair and that too was lifted and thrown on.

"Elizabeth?" he called.

There was a long pause. Elizabeth's voice was oddly weak when she finally spoke. "In a minute."

So, he waited. And waited. And waited.

"Elizabeth?" he glanced at the clock. They would have to leave within two minutes if they wanted to keep their dinner reservation.

"I'll be right out."

Ten minutes passed and she had not appeared. Will began to become concerned. It wasn't like Elizabeth to take this long to dress. She liked to look elegant, certainly, but she hated to spend hours fussing over herself.

So, he strode to the doorway, tapped lightly on the smooth wood, and entered with a inquiring, "Elizabeth?"

The bedroom was empty, neatly in order. No tattle-tale dresses were lying around to inform him that she had been indecisive about her wardrobe for the evening. There weren't even any shoes scattered across the carpet.

The bathroom door stood open a few inches. Will approached slowly. "Elizabeth, is everything alright?"

There was only a soft half-whimper, which sent Will flying through the doorway.

Elizabeth sat on the counter, the back of her hand pressed to her lips. Her long silky dress would have looked absolutely stunning if her face was not pale, and the honey brown locks framing her face damp with some undefined substance.

"Elizabeth," he moved in and caught her hands in his. They were cold and trembled. "Are you alright?"

Her watery gaze met his, great tears trembling from her eyelashes. "I'm so sorry, Will. Of all the inopportune moments to get sick…this was your on night off and we had that wonderful reservation and I got this dress and you…" she burst into the sobs.

Hoping to calm her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rubbed up and down on her back. But to his surprise she placed a hand on his chest.

"No," she gasped for a breath, "no, I don't want to get you," another breath, "sick."

"Elizabeth," he lifted her chin slightly. "I'll be fine. Now let's get you to bed."

"But what about the dinner reservations?"

Will grunted indifferently as he scooped her up and moved out of the bathroom. "There will be other nights. Besides," he added with a grin, "I'm sure Jack will enjoy it in our stead."

Elizabeth curled in closer, eyes closing and mouth drifting into a weary smile.


	20. Chick Flick

Many thanks to shewhoshallwrite, .life, and AKA Parfait.

**19. Chick Flick**

It was so utterly ridiculous, so utterly cliché, she laughed dryly. It could have strayed out of a click flick the idea was so…unthinkable.

Yet here she sat, resting on the bathtub's edge, fiddling with the soft hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze might as well have been glued to the item sitting on the counter, the same thought continuing to drum through her head.

What was Will going to think? Would he be happy? Sad? Excited? Angry?

Her harsh, clipped sigh sounded unusually loud, thrumming in her ears in cadence with her restless heartbeat. It wasn't that she was afraid of this…they had talked about this occurrence, surely, but never very seriously as they didn't think it would matter so soon.

Checking her watch, she noted that the defining moment had arrived.

So, she shoved off the bathtub's edge, slid her feet across the cool tile, and lifted the four inch piece of plastic that would delineate her future. Her gaze fell on the window on the side.

A little pink '+' stared back at her.


	21. Physics

**20. Physics**

Tap, tap…tap, tap, tap.

Will's pencil tapped the paper in sync with the music's beat, a slight way to release the impatience. In front of him lay a complicated blueprint that had taken him two weeks to complete. It would have been ready for construction.

But that was before the meeting with his client earlier that day. He had been informed that they wanted to take on a sleeker look with the introduction of their latest product. So, it was back to the drawing boards.

He had hoped to salvage most of the design and, after a few preliminary sketches to show them where he thought they could take their new concept, he had managed to merge his old plans with the new concept.

It was now a matter of physics to get the two to flow seamlessly as a functional building.

"Will?" Elizabeth's head appeared around the doorway. "Supper's ready. You coming?"

"As soon as I finish this." He turned back to the page, pencil poised to make a correction.

"Will…" She stepped up behind him at his worktable and let her chin rest on his shoulder. "I thought you finished this one."

"Not yet. They want a new direction." Will located his straight edge and adjusted a line by a hair.

"Hmm."

Her chin remained on his shoulder as he made a few more minor lines.

"Couldn't the builders do this sort of thing?"

"Not unless they're going to be paid as the architect as well." He turned and flashed a grin at her.

"Oh, fine." She sighed melodramatically and moved to the door. "Five minutes?"

"Anything you want, baby."

She stiffened. A long pause filled the room before she asked timidly, "Will?"

"Yeah?" Will's mind was only half-listening, filled with calculations as he reviewed the proportions of a two story window.

"What would you think…if we were going to have a baby?"

"Fine, that's fine."

"Will…you're not listening."

"Mhmm." He nodded absently.

"Will."

He glanced up, a twisting feeling in his stomach informing him that he'd missed something important. Amending the situation and quickly seemed to be the proper course. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Did you need something?"

She smiled in the most peculiar way. "Yes. A nursery."

"Why would-" The puzzle pieces connected and the pencil dropped from his hands.

A radiant smile encompassed his face, all thoughts of physics lost to thoughts of a tiny, new life.


	22. Breathe

**21. Breathe**

His face contorted into an expression of pain, mouth opening in a wordless cry.

Her own breath was swept away with his, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest. Beneath her cold fingers, her heart still beat. Then how did she feel fiery pain tearing a hole through flesh and bone?

"Will…" wind and rain tore the word away, lost to the turmoil around them.

Her knees gave out at his side. She understood the pain then. Eyes, wide in horror, took in the sight of bright crimson blood flowing from a wound directly over his heart.

His back arched and his hand reached to touch hers. "Eliz…"

_No…no…this was not happening_, she told herself, head spinning with too many thoughts. _It couldn't be…he was the strong one._ Her chest ached, lungs heaving to suck in air that was too thin. Her lips moved to say his name…but no sound came.

He tried again, his icy hand finally catching hers. "Eliza…"

She wanted to whisper reassurances, tell him that everything would be well. All she could manage was a shake of her head, a painful lump lodged in her throat and vision blurred by tears.

Moving swiftly, her icy fingers brought his lips close to hers. "No…" one gasped word escaped as she fought the tides of fate and her own emotions.

He took a breath, gaze holding hers, and then, in a horrible moment, his hand went slack. He was gone, and she was alone.

"No!" Any air she left in her lungs was leaving her. "No! Will!"

Hands caught her waist, tearing her away from his side.

She fought with all the strength she had. "No! I won't leave you!"

"Elizabeth," a low voice spoke in her ear, soothing and smooth.

In a whirl, the rain dissipated and the wind died. Smooth sheets tangled around her ankles and the coverlet was caught beneath her but all she could think about was the warmth of the arms about her.

"Will…" she took a gasping breath, the paralysis gone. "You're here…" her fingers, as frigid as before, ran along his shoulders as if he might vanish like mist. "You're not hurt…"

The scent of his t-shirt had never been so comforting, nor the feel of his chest pressed against hers. The reassuring beat of his heart and the feel of his breath against her neck assured her that he was indeed real.

"Elizabeth," he ran a hand over her long hair, "breathe."

"It was so real. I saw you…"

"I'm fine." His voice was soft. "It was a dream, just a dream."

She hesitated. "Hold me?"

"Always."


	23. Learner's Permit

**21. Learner's Permit**

The book was the size of two triple-stack cheeseburgers with a mound of French fries on the top. Perhaps some ketchup as well…

Elizabeth's stomach growled loudly. With a glance toward the door and a fleeting wonder at what could be keeping Will from coming back with supper, she patted the growing lump on her waist.

"Come on, now. I'm only three months along. I can handle this." She informed herself firmly. Her eyes fell back on the book and it's thickly black lettered title, _You and Your Child_.

Mustering her fortitude, Elizabeth turned the cover and read the first sentence. "You, as the expectant-parent, are about to embark on one of the most miraculous journeys of life."

The door clicked open and her head shot up, the world of child rearing utterly forgotten.

Will appeared a moment later, bearing several sacks of groceries. He managed to set them all down on the counter before he looked up at her, a puzzled gleam to his eyes. "Elizabeth? What's bruschetta?" He held up the lengthy shopping list she had given him.

"Oh, I don't know. It sounded good though." She shrugged. "Did you get the feta cheese?"

"They didn't have any. Isn't mozzarella the same thing, anyway?"

Elizabeth would have answered, as a true cheese enthusiast, but she had found a packet of carrots and was munching away at them.

Will gave her an oddly amused look but refrained from commenting. "I'll just put these away then." He began gathering up the produce and restocking their sadly empty refrigerator.

Contented, Elizabeth moved back to her seat and the book she still had to read, even though a piece of strawberry shortcake sounded divine. The thick tome creaked as she reopened the cover and forced her eyes back to the page and the words inscribed on it.

And lost her interest on the second word.

"How long is this thing anyway?" she muttered, flipping back to the Table of Contents.

Forty chapter titles stared back at her.

"This is ridiculous." She huffed. "Do you need a learner's permit to be pregnant?"

Will's head appeared from over the counter. "Elizabeth, what are cactus apples?"


	24. White Light

Thank you so much to reviewers, .Life, PirateRN, and shewhoshallwrite!! You made my day! :)

**23. White Light**

Rows upon rows of night lights glowed along the department store's walls, each with a distinct color and shape. Will and Elizabeth hadn't even known such variety in lighting existed. The all-too-smiley clerk had directed them to the aisle, informed them that if they had any questions they had but to ask, and had swiftly disappeared.

"I like the blue one." Will gestured to a slender, curling night light in the shape of a rocket ship.

"But what if it's a girl?"

"She'll be an astronaut?"

"If we have a girl, I like this one." Elizabeth lifted a round, daisy light that glowed a brilliant pink.

"And what if it's a boy? He can't have a flower in his bedroom."

The flower light was replaced on the shelf, and Elizabeth brushed back a tendril of hair, sighing. "No rockets, no flowers."

"There's always the puppy." He motioned to a golden head with brilliant blue eyes.

"Yes, but he does look a little…" Elizabeth trailed off, rubbing her round belly and the restless child within.

"Right." Will agreed, eyeing the bright orbs of color in the canine's face.

They sighed in tandem. Such choices… "Perhaps we shouldn't have a night light at all. Perhaps, we'll just…leave the hall light on instead."

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

Their bleary gazes focused on the endless choices, drifting over shiny plastic packaging to yet more plastic packaging. Elizabeth broke the silence with a soft intake of breath. "Will?"

She reached out a pulled a small box hidden behind a long, flame-red dragon. "A star."

Will took the package in his larger hands. The image on the front showed a star with comforting white light illuminating into the darkness. "Perfect." And another sigh filled the aisle. Yet, this time it was not a sigh of dismay, it was a sigh of utter relief. "That was the longest hour of my life."

A slow smile broke out across her face, and then she broke out into giggles, laughing still when they purchased the little star and exited the store.


	25. Trophy

Many, many thanks to AKA Parfait, shewhoshallwrite, .life, and lynxlan for the wonderful reviews!!

AKA Parfait: Thanks for the review! I'm so glad you've been enjoying them! I've loved writing them!

**A/N:** We're nearing the end! Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to finish the last drabble this week. So, look for it next week! :)

Have a blessed, warm thanksgiving!!

**24. Trophy**

It was a Friday when Elizabeth was rushed to the hospital, clutching her belly as birth-pains began to pulse. Will arrived moments after she did, breathless and wind-blown. They were both whisked away to a delivery room where all but her belly, Will, and the doctor ceased to exist for Elizabeth. Seven hours later, a brand new baby boy was brought into the world.

Two hours passed before the pair of new parents were left alone, the warm bundle of blankets and youth tucked firmly in the father's arms.

Will couldn't keep his eyes off the babe, enamored with the dark fringe of eyelashes, the innocent little mouth, and the wisps of dark curly hair. He would sit, utterly content, for hours simply staring and staring.

Elizabeth did not contest the fascination, content to watch her two boys from the large hospital bed. Lunch had only just arrived and, surprisingly, the aromas wafting from the warm tray were tantalizing.

The first bite of roasted turkey was heaven as the spices and juices filled her mouth. Judging from the lack of food in the last nine hours, she hadn't thought food could taste so wonderful. But then, she hadn't exactly been feasting while in labor.

"Elizabeth!" The urgent tone to his voice sent the delicious morsel of food straight down her throat.

"What? What is it?"

He stepped across the room gingerly, holding the new babe out at least six inches from his waist as though he might break it by contact. "The baby!"

She reached out and brushed away the soft blue blanket from the young face, expecting the worst. The tone of his voice did not sit well with her. It could only have been something horrible to trigger such a reaction.

But the child was fine, looking up at them curiously with his large blue-gray eyes.

"What is it, Will?"

"He opened his eyes! Did you see?" The baby blinked again and Will leaned in close, adjusting his position to allow her a better view. "His eyes, do you see them?"

"Well, yes…" Elizabeth glanced to her husband, concern wrinkling her eyebrows. "That…that was it?" It couldn't be it, could it?

He didn't answer, too busy running the tip of his finger over the smooth skin on the baby's cheeks.

"Will?" she prodded gently.

"He's beautiful, Elizabeth," He breathed at length.

A wide grin encompassed her face. "Yes, he is. Just like his father."

"More like his Mum, I'd say." Will flashed her a brilliant smile and kissed the top of her head.

Though she appreciated the kiss, she had to disagree about where the child's appearance originated. "He's got your chin, and your eyes."

"Whatever Mum says." Again, a kiss was dropped on the crown of her head. "Honestly, we deserve a prize or something. A trophy, perhaps."

"A trophy? Whatever for?" Childbirth was unpleasant but how many other women across the globe had birthed their children in far less pleasant circumstances. She was rather blessed to have had very few complications in labor, especially considering her family's medical history.

His ever-present grin grew. "For making such a beautiful child."


	26. Anniversary

Alright, folks, here's the last drabble! Thank you so, so much for reading! And a big thank you to those of you that reviewed! Smithy, shewhoshallwrite, .life, keiraliz, Sonjadore, and PirateRN, thank you!! Enjoy!

**25. Anniversary**

A high-pitched wail echoed down the hallways, soft but somehow demanding.

Will felt a hand smack his arm and Elizabeth voice mumble. "Your turn."

"I went at two." He buried his head farther into the pillow.

"I went at three."

"He wasn't crying then."

She uttered a grunting laugh. "You didn't wake up."

A soft rustle of sheets and coverlets followed his clumsy efforts to get out of bed. His feet connected with the wood floor in quiet 'smack' as he fumbled his way to the door. "Right." His vision was still bleary from too little sleep and the door knob continued to evade his lumbering fingers.

He finally succeeded, and the door was wrenched open. By now, irritation had taken control of his actions and in an impulsive move he snapped the hall light on.

That, he learned, was a mistake.

Feeling like Jack with a hangover, he extinguished the light and stumbled down the hallway, hands outstretched to feel the walls. Willie's room was at the end of the corridor, such a painfully long distance with burning retinas.

Another pitiable wail rang in Will's ears. Willie had inherited his mother's patience then.

The plush carpet in the bedroom was a relief after the cold wooden floors, and the soft night light was merciful beacon to gently illuminate the room.

Willie was wriggling in his crib, round hands waving and face red with exertion.

Will leaned down and was about to scoop up the distraught babe when he saw the pacifier lying forlornly next to him. Instead, he picked up the plastic magic-worker and held it before Willie. "Is this want you wanted?"

His wails ceased and the little boy looked up at his father with wide eyes.

"Right. Now you're happy." Feeling greatly used, Will lifted Willie out of his crib and settled the sleepy infant against his chest.

Within moments, he found his thumb and began sucking away contentedly. Ten drowsy minutes later, Will returned Willie to his crib gingerly.

He was stumbling back down the hallway to return to a much needed rest when the doorbell rang with a deep 'gong'. Biting back his furious ranting, he moved to the doorway, pulled loose the locks, and yanked the door open.

"Merry anniversary!" Jack flopped forward to give Will a sloppy hug. "And a benevolent New Yuletide!"

"Jack," Will pushed his long-time friend back a few feet and nearly passed out from the liquor reeking from the man's jacket. "How much rum did you have tonight?"

"That," Jack's finger almost took out Will's left eye as he gestured, "is a very good question, whelp."

"Enough, I think." Will took his friend's shoulders and steered him into the living room.

"N'ver enough rum." Jack muttered, his voice oddly nasally.

"Jack?" Will pushed him towards the couch, and the dark-haired man's muscles took him there almost automatically. "Are you sick?"

"Me? Nah."

"Yes, you are. Your nose is red."

"An' are you sayin' tha's a bad thing?"

"Go to sleep, Jack. We'll talk in the morning." Will shut the door and replaced the locks, letting his feet scuff the floor grumpily.

When he finally sank back against the now cool sheets on his side of the master bed, he sighed gratefully, despite the chill seeping up from his frozen toes.

"Did I hear Jack?" Elizabeth's voice was slurred from sleep.

"Yes, he's drunk. I put him on the couch." Will pulled the thick coverlets over his shoulders and tried to recapture the deep slumber he'd been enjoying only moments before.

And found, to his utter dismay, that he couldn't. But then, such was life in the Turner household. Fate, it would seem, would never stop throwing them surprises.

A warm hand brushed his shoulder and suddenly Elizabeth was curled up next to him, her soft hair brushing his chin.

"You're cold." She commented.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "You're warm."

"Willie's alright?"

"Mh-hmmm."

She leaned over and her lips brushed his. Then, with a little sigh, she settled back and was asleep an instant later. To his surprise, he followed only a short while later.


End file.
